Terrors from Above

As I have told you all, I am living in Zushi here in Japan.  It is a coastal city 30 miles south of Tokyo, and it is home to animals with interesting feeding habits.  

Sometime within the first month of moving here, I went to the 7-11 that is 2 minutes from our apartment for a snack.  I decided to get myself an onigiri, a pressed rice ball that can be filled with various meats or vegetables. I went outside the store to eat it.  I unwrapped the onigiri and took two bites from it.  Suddenly something hit me like a big gust of wind and my onigiri was no longer in my hand.  I looked around to see if I had dropped it, but it wasn’t anywhere on the ground. Then I looked up and saw a giant hawk with a wingspan of at least 3-4 feet flying away from me.

A GIANT HAWK DIVEBOMBED ME AND STOLE MY RICE BALL!!!  

Incredibly, I was not hurt as the hawk grabbed the onigiri out of my hand with its talons. 

This was one of the most incredible experiences that I have ever had with wildlife. I was stunned, shocked, awed and dumbfounded. I swore then and there that I was never eating anything outside in Japan ever again.  I have not kept that oath.

You may be thinking, “Wow, that is an incredible, one off experience that is unlikely to happen again.”  You would be wrong.  The next month, I went out for a walk to give Sarah some space and privacy while she was on a video conference.  I decided to occupy my time by going down to the beach where I could have a snack and watch the windsurfers on the bay.  I bought some croquettes and an onigiri and found a comfortable place to settle down.  Due to my first experience with losing my food to the local avian population, I have started to scan the skies before I eat outdoors.  This time, I forgot to do a full 360 degree scan.  

Whilst eating my croquettes, I wanted to have a drink. I set down the container so I could open my tea bottle.  Big mistake.  Within seconds, a hawk attacked my croquette container from behind, shredding the plastic box and turning the croquettes into mush strewn across the sand.  I became a two-time victim that day.

Since then, I have seen three other victims of these hungry terrors from the skies, including my wife, who was assaulted for a taiyaki (stuffed pancake-like treat) on a busy tourist street in Kamakura.  These incidents are so common that there are warning signs posted in parks along the Shonan coastline.   I ended up talking with an American who is living in Japan, and whose daughter had just lost a sandwich to these opportunistic raptors.  He told me that the hawks in the area have resorted to this kind of scavenging because their traditional prey has all but disappeared from the area.  Unlike the majestic dumpster diving bald eagles of North America, these Japanese hawks are still using their expert hunting skills to feed themselves.

The trauma of these attacks has changed how I consume food outside.  I now eat near walls or other barriers to block avian attackers.  If a barrier is not close, I look for some overhead cover to obscure their view of my food.  Sarah watches me do these things and laughs at me, telling me I look like a frightened forest creature.  She doesn’t understand how deeply these “fowl” beasts have scarred me.  I just want to enjoy eating my food outdoors, but will probably never be able to again.

Exit Haiku